Und Die Vögel Singen Nicht Mehr
by FlyingPigsAreEverywere
Summary: No. No. This is impossible. It can't happen. That's not Birdie. It's not him lying there. So cold. So pale. It's not him lying in the grass. Completely still, not breathing. Nope. That can't happen. ONESHOT PruCan


Und die Vögel singen nicht mehr

No. No. This is impossible. It can't happen. That's not Birdie. It's not him lying there. So cold. So pale. It's not him lying in the grass. Completely still, not breathing. Nope. That can't happen. It's not my little Mattie lying there blood covering his shirt. Because that would mean that Birdie is… No. I won't say it. Because that's not him.

But it is. I know it. No matter how hard I try to tell myself that it's someone else. Just a copy, not my little Vögel. But I know the truth. It's him. It's him with eyes open. Violet irises staring blindly up at the sky. It's him with arms bent at weird angles. I feel my eyes getting wet. It's really Birdie. No. No. No.

I want to close my eyes. Not look. Keep on pretending that it's someone else completely. That Birdie is just home. Being fine, maybe cooking pancakes. But my eyes stay open. I don't remember how you do to close them.

I slowly walk towards him. No. Not him. His body. He is not here anymore. Gone. Gone forever. Never coming back. But anyways, I still walk to the body.

I kneel down next to him. Taking his hand. It's not as warm as it usually is, nor does it squeeze mine back like it always used to do. No. Please, Birdie. Tears are freely flowing down my cheeks now. Why, why, why? Why my little Matthew, could it not have been anyone else? Anyone, just not him.

The sun is going down. The sky is red and orange. It would have been beautiful at any other time. But not now. Not with my little Canadian lying here, bloody and not really here. But his hair is still shining in the orange light. I take my free hand and touch it. It's still as soft as always. His hair. That's part of the reason to why we met. That and Gilbird. He decided that my hair wasn't awesome enough and that he should nest in Mattie's hair instead. The memory almost makes me smile. Matthew was terrified of the yellow bird that suddenly flew onto his head and started to drag in it to form his nest. And I came and saved the day like the awesome person I am. And of course asked the cute boy out on a date when the bird was detangled from the long blond hair.

I look down at his chest and see it. The knife that's sitting there. The knife that did this to my Mattie. It's buried in his chest all the way to the handle. That's why his shirt is stained with blood. The closer to the knife the deeper the color is. So dark red. Still wet. Staining his white shirt. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I don't want to see this. I can't see this.

Why Birdie? Oh Gott, why? This is not what was supposed to happen. We were supposed to always be together, to grow old together. Adopt some awesome kids. Just enjoying life like the two awesome people we are.

We were supposed to die together. When we're old- really old, old enough for our grandchildren to have their own kids. When we're wrinkly and we both need glasses and canes to move around. When we are old enough to tell stories to kids and they think that it's crazy how old-fashioned it was when we were young. That's when we will die.

But I guess that's not how it will be. I move my hand from Mattie's hair to his cheek_, why Mattie, why?_ But we can still die together I realize. Just a whole lot earlier than what I expected, but I guess it will have to do. Because I can't live without Matthew. That's one thing that I know. I just barely lived before I met him, and I know that I can't make it, not now that I know what it's like to have him in my life.

I slowly reach my hand to his chest. My other hand still holding one to his limp one. My hand takes ahold of the knifes handle and I pull it out. The knife is pretty long. It must have almost have gone through his entire body. The blade is covered in blood, Birdies blood.

I sigh out. And slowly raise the blade to my own chest. Goodbye, the world.

I open my eyes. It's dark. I'm lying in bed. And I feel a weight on my chest. Birdie. He's sleeping. His eyes closed and mouth open. Slowly breathing and clinging to my body. A dream I realize. It was all just a dream. I take a shaky breath. I'm alright, and more importantly Birdie is alright. I wrap my arms around him and put my chin on top of his head, I'm never letting go.

"Hm, Gil? Are you okay?" A sleepy voice says.

"Yeah. I'm just so glad that you are alive. Uhm, that you are here, eh with me… Yeah I-I just I love you. That's all."

"Eh okay Gil. I love you too, but it's 4.30 in the morning, can we go back to sleep?"

AN: So, that's that little story. Ehm, yes. I don't really know what to say. But this was kind of inspired by the song Ohne Dich by Rammstien. The title means something like "and the birds sing no more". From the beginning I was really supposed to kill Matthew. But I couldn't do it. So this is the result. It would be really kind if you could leave me a review and tell me what you think.


End file.
